


The House Advisors

by CCeynowa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts First Year, Multi, Return to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCeynowa/pseuds/CCeynowa
Summary: Determined to keep his students safe, Professor Dumbledore initiates a radical program at Hogwarts the same year Harry Potter is to begin attendance. Carefully tracing bloodlines, he recruits two muggle born adults in their mid-twenties, with undeveloped magical talents, to live at Hogwarts and act as liaisons between the Houses.  These individuals are each unique in their heritage: not truly wizards/witches, but powerful nevertheless.   This is their behind the scenes story to Harry Potter’s adventures.





	1. Ancestral Magic

**Author's Note:**

> "It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be." — Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

It was Saturday night and the recently purchased half-gallon of Dutch Chocolate ice cream was empty. Turner Classic Movies was showing a marathon of Jimmy Stewart's greatest. Kipper, as per his usual most nights, was within easy arm reach. His short butterscotch hair clung to the navy cushions, the carpet, the drapes, and really any exposed fabric. From deep within his chest rumbled a contented purr. Every so often his ear twitched when a distant sound drifted into his dreams from the busy street outside.

Curled in the corner of the overstuffed loveseat, Hayden Parker sank deeper into her long cotton nightshirt. She stared gloomily at the empty ice cream carton. It was not too late to run out for more. She would only have to throw on her jeans if she went to the convenient store down the street, but Jerry the night clerk would still be on call. He would scan the bar code, after wiping the condensation from the carton, and stare at her through his extra-thick glasses. He would suppress a smile and reword the same question he had asked earlier in an attempt at wit, "This is your excitement for the night?" Or perhaps he would ask, "Wanting to try a different flavor?" He might even be brazen enough to suggest, "Time for another quickie, huh?"

She had no doubt he would make some remark, with a not-so-subtle implied message, and she would have no ready reply. Her tongue would grow heavy, and her cheeks would blush. She would stutter a hasty, "uh huh," and then hurry on her way. It was the same every time a man, even one as repulsive as Jerry, spoke to her. She wished she had the courage to tell a guy what was on her mind, to have the intelligent conversation she had in her head with the handsome intern at work, or to tell pricks on the street to drop dead. But always her debilitating shyness would flare and she would fulfill the unjust societal stereotype of being stupid because she was beautiful.

When she first hired at Charles Abbot's Law Firm, she had overheard a male coworker say that she was the perfect woman: long legged, busty, and simple minded. She had felt a deep irrational shame in the pit of her stomach, and afterwards had strove to prove herself through absolute perfection in her work. The strategy had worked too. In less than a year she had received two internal promotions and was on the fast track to a desk inside of the chief executives' suite. She had plans to assist the CEO before she turned thirty, buy a condo on an isolated beach before she was fifty, and retire by sixty.  
Reflecting on her professional success and reachable goals did little to brighten her mood. Instead, she threw the empty ice cream carton into the waste basket beside the couch and decided that she did not care what Jerry thought. With luck, she would eat enough ice cream to become extra fat, and then men would ignore her completely and women would befriend her as their "fat friend with a good sense of humor." That would be simplest.

Just once, she thought as she searched for her socks and tennis shoes, she wished she could say words to alter Jerry's attitude. She would start by telling him what she thought of his character. He was a pimply, near-sighted, kid who thought he was hot-stuff. His acne and ear-wax made her want to puke. When he spoke to her, she contemplated eating a bullet instead of ice cream. Of course, then she would seem like a witch, but at least it would stop him from leering at her over the counter every time she walked through the door. Being a witch was better than being a brainless bimbo. A witch at least had depth and personality.

Smiling to herself at the imagined look on his face and at her boldness, she was almost to the kitchen to retrieve her purse, when the explosion dropped her to her knees. Smoke billowed out from under her bedroom door. Kipper darted past her into the front hall closet, as far from the fumes as possible.

Considerably shaken, she began feeling around under the loveseat for her phone that had fallen from her hand. It did not occur to her to leave her home. Already the smoke had begun to subside. She quickly rationalized that something had fallen down the blocked up fireplace in her bedroom. She had been meaning to have it cleared and inspected since she moved in last year, but had not done so yet. Finally finding the small flip-phone under the coffee table, she was about to dial her landlord to come have a look when she heard the voices from behind the closed bedroom door.

"Oaf! That was an experience," said a high pitched, slightly muffled, voice. "Don't use her fire much, 'eh?"

"I doubt she has much occasion to do so in Texas." This second voice sounded male. "We certainly have made a mess. Perhaps, ah yes, tergeo." A small flash of light accompanied the last word. The smoke immediately began to thin and within seconds disappeared all together.

Hayden's first thought was, "there are strangers in my bedroom." Her second thought was, "I didn't make my bed this morning." Giving herself a slight shake to ward off the effects of shock that she felt at the edges of her consciousness, she scrambled to her feet wanting to face whoever was in her room standing up, not crouching behind a flimsy coffee table.

Into the living room stepped a short blonde woman. She couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Her hair was tightly curled and pulled away from her plump heart shaped face. She wore large, thick lens glasses which amplified her wide set eyes. Her robe, Hayden searched for any other description and found none to more accurately identify the garment, was a deep violet color.  
In direct contrast to the woman, the man was old, dignified and painfully thin. He stood a full four heads taller than the woman, even towering over Hayden's own five foot-seven inch frame. His smile, however, stretched across his whole face, twinkling good naturally in his eyes behind half-moon shaped glasses. His lengthy arms ended in the most perfectly shaped hands Hayden had ever seen. His robe, what Hayden could see under his expansive white beard, was patterned in large stars against a blue background.

"Oh!" the woman clapped her hands together and spoke in a rush, "You must be Hayden Parker! Paralegal and Administrator for Abbott Consulting! Great to meet you; you look remarkably like your great-great-grandmother!"

The man formally bowed, "Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My companion is Charity Burbage, recent Hogwarts graduate and expert in Muggle Studies." The woman smiled encouragingly. Both looked at Hayden expectantly.

The best Hayden could manage in reply was, "uh, um, what?"

"Maybe I should take over Prof," Charity spoke to Professor Dumbledore over (and above) her shoulder. "Take a seat Hayden. You look like you're about to topple. I promise you aren't crazy, and that we mean you no harm." She gestured towards the love seat and companion chair. Hayden noticed that the woman had left off that they weren't crazy.

Not thinking of a better alternative, and definitely slipping into a state of shock, Hayden silently sank down onto her corner of the love seat sofa. Charity moved to the other end, and perched on the cushion's edge. Professor Dumbledore made himself comfortable in the remaining chair. Kipper, evidently sensing no harm, came from wherever he had been hiding. He immediately began to rub against the older man's legs. Seemingly delighted, Dumbledore picked him up and began to whisper what sounded suspiciously like baby-talk against Kipper's fur.

"Now isn't this cozy?" Charity glanced at Dumbledore with an exasperated expression. To Hayden she asked, "What do you know of your great-great-grandmother?"

Hayden stared blankly at Charity for a moment, and then answered, "My grandmother lives in Wyoming, and she's been retired from the electric company for fifteen years."

"I mean your great-great-grandmother. Mirabella Plunkett? Does the Plunkett name sound familiar?"

"Well, no, but hold on! I should have you two arrested for breaking and entering!" Hayden reached for her phone again.

"Wait a moment Miss Parker," Dumbledore spoke kindly while still stroking Kipper in his lap. "I know this seems extraordinary. Not every day does a witch and a wizard happen into your home, but, if you please, allow us to explain before you take any hasty actions."

"What to see some magic? Proof that we aren't loons?" Charity spoke with the utmost certainty and compassion in her voice. Hayden could tell from the look on the young woman's face that she desperately wanted to be given a chance. She knew that look, and the pang in the center of her chest was what made her agree.

"Um, okay. Like pull a rabbit out of a hat or something?"

"No, nothing like what you think of magic on the telly," Charity said, "You tell me what you want to see, no matter how impossible, and I'll make it appear. Anything. Go ahead."

"Birds?" Hayden said the first thing that popped into her head. "A bird to fly around."

"Okay," Charity nodded as she pulled her wand from her robe. "Any certain kind?"

"A swan."

"Avis Cycnus!" 

From the tip of Charity's wand grew the most beautiful, and largest, swan Hayden had ever seen. Kipper, having seen enough by the time the bird's shoulder blades had appeared, again bolted for parts unknown. Presently a live swan was waddling towards Hayden's outstretched hand. She managed to touch it before it abruptly hissed, as is common for swans, and lunged at her. "Bloody hell!" Charity cried jumping to her feet. Professor Dumbledore flicked his own wand, having retrieved it from the depths of his own robe when Charity began her spell, and the swan disappeared with an audible pop.

"There you have it Miss Parker. Real magic. Are you convinced?" The older man studied Hayden with a look that made her entirely uncomfortable and comforted all at once.

"Yes, strangely enough. I believe you are the real deal and I don't think you'll hurt me. But I don't know why you are here. I'm not a witch, am I?" She half hoped and half dreaded the answer.

"Yes and no." Dumbledore settled back in his chair. "Your great-great-grandmother, Mirabella Plunkett, was a powerful witch. She, however, as these things did happen, fell in love with a merman. At that time inter-species, ahem," he paused and seemed to search for the correct word, "ah, marriages, were strongly frowned upon. The merman, your great-great-grandfather, was actually forbidden by his laws to return her love. But he did, and his people banished him to the the deepest depths of the ocean as punishment. Mirabella, in defiance to her family, transformed herself into a haddock and joined him in banishment. Astoundingly, the two were able to have a baby." Dumbledore paused again. This time to wipe a tear from his eye. It seemed the story of forbidden love had a profound effect on him. "But, alas," he continued, "the baby was not able to live completely in water. Mirabella abandoned the baby on the coast of Florida. You are a direct descendant of this rare mixed child."

"Whoa, hold on. I'm part fish?"

"It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be," Dumbledore replied (direct quote, and inspiration, from JK Rowling's work). "You are not truly a witch, Miss Parker, but you do possess magical blood. The intermingling of merpeople and magical people is not unheard of, but the rare results often produced what were destined to be known as 'Sirens.' Mer-Law prevented the interbreeding of the two races in the late 1700s as part of the Muggle Protection Act initiated by the Ministry of Magic."

"Muggle Protection Act? Ministry of Magic?"

"Muggles are what we call non-magical people. The Ministry is our government," Charity interjected.

"So I'm a muggle?" Hayden was still feeling lost, but was trying hard to follow the conversation. "Or I'm a Siren?"

"Yes, and again, no," confirmed Dumbledore. "The legendary Sirens from times of old have all died away. No living human with their genetics had been known to survive, except you. Technically you are not a witch because of your merpeople heritage. This is why you were not chosen to attend the magical school here in America. Nor were you selected to attend the Merpeople's own schools due to obvious reasons. I dare say, though, you could have done so and learned to be a credible master of magic. You are also not a muggle. The kind of power you possess is special and different than common magic wielders. It is buried deep within your heritage, and, I believe, can only be tapped into through concentrated study. I would like to give you the opportunity to discover this part of yourself while working with the professors at Hogwarts in England."

"He's offering you a job," Charity clarified. "We'll leave you more information. If you want to take him up on the offer, you'll find all your travel information in here." She handed Hayden a plain manila envelope, stuffed almost as full as those Hayden handled daily at the law firm. "I already booked all your travel by normal Muggle ways. You can tell your family that you have been offered a legitimate job with a firm in England. All the info is in there." She tapped the folder. "If you accept, we'll see you August 1st, a month before term begins."

Dumbledore and Charity stood. Hayden began to stand as well, but was waved down by Dumbledore. "Think it over Miss Parker," he said. "We will show ourselves out."

Together the two walked back into Hayden's bedroom. While Dumbledore pulled a small leather pouch out of his robe pocket, Charity lit a fire in the hearth using her wand. Dumbledore offered the pouch to Charity, and she withdrew a small pinch of powder to toss it into the flames. Stepping in to the now bright green fire she shouted "Diagon Alley" and disappeared. Following her example, Dumbledore tossed powder into the fire, changing it to bright blue. Hayden did not hear what he said before he zoomed away.

She remained sitting on the couch, watching the light from the fire die away in her bedroom and clutching the heavy envelope in her hand. Finally, prompted by Kipper's return and his insistent mewing, she drew herself out of her trance and focused on the envelope. Settling back into the cushions, she began to read.

End Chapter One ###


	2. The Temptress of Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.' – Albus Dumbledore

The plane trip would take a little over nine hours. It had cost her more than she would have liked to cancel her lease, but the advance that had been included with her travel arrangements was more than enough to compensate. There was also a return ticket, which she confirmed with the airlines could be redeem or change to any flight if she desired to return sooner than the following summer. The cash advance and the comfort of an anytime return ticket wasn’t what convinced Hayden to go to England though, it was the final paragraph of the cover letter included in the information packet. 

 

The letter had instructed her to try a simple spell to test if she had innate powers or not. It instructed her to concentrate on a writing instrument in her home (preferably a feathered quill). Lacking a quill, she had opted for a basic ballpoint pen. The letter then prompted her to draw a cartoon animal or person on a sheet of paper (paper NOT included in the information packet). While she drew, she was supposed to envision the drawing moving as if it was alive. She was instructed to see the ink from her pen giving life. Then she was to hold her hand over the drawing, press firmly downward, and say, “traheran vitarean.” 

 

And it had worked. 

 

The cartoon kitten she had sketched sprang to life on the paper. It bounced around and wagged its too-long tail in a comical mimic of Kipper’s playful antics. Hayden had been shocked, fascinated, and more than a little scared.

 

Never having been one to leave things up to luck, she had filled sheets of paper with animated animals and flowers. She had been delighted when she realized the characters she had drawn in the could interact with each other, some even jumping between pages if stacked together. Unfortunately she didn’t realize this until after she had drawn a wolf to accompany her rabbits. A hastily drawn cage solved this problem. 

 

Her travel itinerary had her (and Kipper) leaving Austin on the evening of July twenty-eighth. She was to land in London the morning of the twenty-ninth and overnight at the Club Quarters near Trafalgar Square. A guide was to meet her in the hotel restaurant that evening and take her to purchase “necessary items” and “appropriate clothing” for her employment the next day. They would travel to Hogwarts School on the thirty-first. 

 

She hoped the guide wouldn’t be dressed as Charity or Professor Dumbledore had been in robes. However, based on the described pamphlet she had been left about the secrecy of the Magical World, she expected to not be able to distinguish the guide from anyone else in the hotel. Even though the information Charity had left was extensive and reassuring, the pre-law student in Hayden wanted to know the intricacies of the situation and the magical world. 

 

She had found quitting the Abbot Law Firm to be easier than expected, and her parents had been thrilled to learn of her opportunity to travel, especially after she mentioned the promised salary she was to earn. Her school debts would be paid off in no time! There was no other family to notify, and no boyfriend to worry about. She had simply obtained a storage building, hired a company to pack her home furnishings, and headed to the airport. She found herself grinning in the back of the taxi. 

 

The flight was uneventful, aside from Kipper throwing up once in his carrier, and navigating the London Airport was a breeze since she had checked no luggage. Armed with only her carry on, her cell phone (would a cell phone even work at Hogwarts, she wondered), her sketches neatly arranged in a binder tucked in her overlarge handbag, and Kipper's carrier she had hailed a taxi and enjoyed the sights on her way to the Club Quarters. She checked into her reserved room, ordered an early lunch via room service, including a small saucer of warm milk for Kipper. 

“Poor little Kip,” she cooed when she released him from his carrier. “I know it’s been a rough day.” In a display of feline emotions, he ignored her and stalked to the far corner of their room. Sighing, she resigned to accept his cold shoulder, knowing he would forgive her sooner or later. After she had eaten, she took a quick nap to help her jet-lag and then shower before heading down to the restaurant. 

 

In true Hayden form, she arrived almost thirty minutes prior to her reservation time. She decided to have a drink at the bar to pass the time and steady her growing nerves. It was early in the evening, and the bar had few patrons. The older, attractive male, bartender smiled appreciatively as she slid onto a bar chair. She had opted to wear one of her nicer blouses. It was a deep peacock blue and set well against her auburn hair and green eyes. She had hoped wearing the blouse and slacks would make her feel more confident, instead the bartenders smile made her keenly aware of how the fabric stretched a bit too tight across her chest. 

 

“What can I serve you?” He was polite, and his eyes didn’t leave her face. She relaxed marginally. 

“Ah, a beer?”

“Ale it is. What kind?” 

“I’ll take a recommendation. Something not too bitter,” she was relieved at his understanding of her American ignorance. The taxi driver had been kind as well, pointing out sights along the way. 

 

“A golden, I’d think. How’s about Discovery?”

 

“Sounds great.” She settled back into the chair a little more after being served and began to take in the few other patrons. A tall sandy-haired man caught her eye from the far end of the bar and smiled at her. She immediately dropped her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t come over. Luck was not on her side. Presently she heard the chair to her right move. Glancing up from her drink, she found the man had indeed taken her glance as an invitation. 

 

“What’s a pretty gal like you doing all alone,” he asked in a definite Australian accent. His shockingly blue eyes oozed charm and his broad smile was nothing but friendly. Hayden was immediately tongue tied and flustered. 

 

Damn, she thought, pretend he is a client and this is not a social outing. Taking a deep breath she tried to answer without appearing too big of an idiot. “Enjoying a private drink.” Maybe that would put him off enough. She didn’t want to meet her Hogwarts guide in a jumbled state of mind. The fact that she was meeting another magical person had jumbled her bad enough. This handsome man needed to go. 

 

“Aye, thought I’d do the same. Glad I did. What brings you to good ol’ London?” He didn’t seem put off at all by her short answer. He did, she noticed, take the hint enough to lean away from her making her slightly more comfortable at his presence. She couldn’t help but notice his hands were rough, heavily callused, and his physique was one of a man who knew a hard day’s work. 

 

“Business.” She took a larger gulp of her beer and checked her watch. “I have a meeting in a few minutes. Nice to meet you, but I mustn’t stay.”

 

“Well, you ain’t met me yet. Name’s Benjamin Harris, but my friends call me Ben.” Again he grinned at her. The bartender took her glass as she laid her payment on the bar top. “And you are…” Ben prompted. 

 

“Going to be late.” She turned her back on him and started towards the restaurant. 

 

“Hold up there Ms, is it Miss or Mrs?” Ben hurriedly signed his tab over to his room and called after her. “I’m headed to my own booking at the restaurant. I’ll walk you.” 

 

“Don’t put yourself out.”

 

“My pleasure. It isn’t every day I get to escort a lady as pretty as you.” She felt herself blushing and again damned her insecurities. Shaking her head, she hurried with him keeping pace at her side. “I’m here on business too,” he continued as they walked. She nodded, not wanting to encourage him but unable to shake him either. 

Reaching the reservation podium, Ben allowed her to step in front. Not looking up from his book, the Maître Di asked, “Name of your party?” 

 

“Parker, Hayden. I’m here to meet Rosemary Ames,” Hayden replied. Ben let out a surprised breath behind her. 

 

“Well make that two,” he said stepping up. “Benjamin Harris, also to meet Ms. Ames.” 

 

Before Hayden could express her surprise, the Maître Di said, “Excellent. You are both on the list. She has arrived only a few moment’s prior. Please follow me.”

 

Glancing quickly at Ben and feeling a rising wave of unreasonable anger, Hayden hurried to catch up with the Maître Di. He led them to a table where a very pleasant, middle aged, woman sat. She was dressed, Hayden was relieved to note, in a sensible light green pant suit. Her hair was more white than brown, and carefully arranged in intricate curls on top her head. She stood as they approached. 

 

“Miss Parker! Mr. Harris! Nice to finally meet you!” The Maître Di held Hayden’s chair for her and Ben politely held Rosemary’s. Once they were all settled, and the wine had been poured, Rosemary more fully introduced herself. 

 

“I’m a horticulturist and a good friend of Albus’s brother, Aberforth. Albus asked me to guide you two since I was headed to the, ah, school anyways to take a look at their willow tree. Seems like it might have a root condition and Madame Sprout wants a second opinion.” She spoke in a hurry, but Hayden suspected she was choosing her words with care. Ben must have thought so too.

 

“Is there something we should know,” he asked. “Like are there certain things we shouldn’t discuss until we get to the, ah, school?” 

 

“Well, yes and no.” Hayden sighed internally. That seemed to be a standard answer in the wizarding world. Between Ben’s presence and a now seeming need for secrecy, the evening was not going as she had thought it would. She was hoping to have some solid answers after flying half way around the world. Rosemary smiled at her as if sensing her mood. “The general population does not know of our culture, and we are perfectly happy to have it that way.”

 

“Why,” Hayden suspected the reasons, but wanted to be sure.

 

“Too many of them and not enough of us,” was Rosemary’s answer. She elaborated, “They don’t need us to solve their problems. And if they knew about us, that is all they would want. I tell you, some of our officials have a hard time keeping it quite though. Really, mug—, ahem, people have enough with technology and so forth. They are doing just fine without.”

 

“I’ve never bloody heard of ya, that’s for sure,” Ben said. “Was quite the shock when Ol’ Albus showed up on the farm.” 

 

“You farm?” Hayden asked, distracted for a moment. 

 

“Not the way you Americans think,” he answered. Hayden bit back a retort about his assumptions on Americans. She wasn’t completely ignorant of other cultures. “I work on my folk’s sheep farm part of the time. I’m a caver by trade.” 

 

“A caver,” Rosemary asked. “I’m not familiar with that profession.”

 

“I explore caves and caverns. Lead tours. Rescue blokes that go at it alone.” 

 

“Does that happen often? People getting lost,” Rosemary was fully focused on Ben. He certainly did have charisma. Hayden couldn’t help but notice how the older woman’s eyes had drifted from his face to over his expansive chest. The dinner suit he wore did not hide his muscles or slim waist. Hayden assumed caving would take a great deal of body strength. 

 

“Not too many times. There was one late last year. Fool had gone into one of the deeper caverns without a guide and broken his leg. Took me three days to trail and find him. Had to carry him out. Was a nightmare.” Hayden twisted the napkin in her lap. He wasn’t really bragging, but his nonchalant manner irritated her none-the-less. Plus he kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, any time, it seemed, that he knew Rosemary was not watching his face. 

 

“Oh, I see. And Miss Parker, what about you?” Rosemary made a visual effort to turn her attention to Hayden. Truth be told, Hayden would have been happy to let Ben continue to carry the evening. She was starting to have second doubts, but the notebook of animated drawings in her room solidified her resolve to stick it out. She could tolerate Ben and his glances for a while longer. 

 

“It’s Hayden, please, and I studied pre-law. I was working as a paralegal in Texas before, um, being offered this opportunity.”

 

“Opportunity she says,” Ben laughed. “As it was explained to me, I almost had no choice. It’s who I am after all. Who are you to be here, pretty gal?” 

 

She did not like his implied question. Her ancestry suddenly seemed silly and made up. Her doubts doubled and her anger boiled over. Maybe it was the beer before, and maybe it was the wine, but she suddenly found her voice. “Stop calling me ‘pretty gal.’ My name is Hayden. I don’t know what you were told, and I won’t tell you what I was told. Secrecy seems to be a big thing right now. Let’s leave it at that, huh?” Rosemary was frowning at her from across the table causing a fresh surge of anger. 

 

“Easy now, Hayden,” Ben spoke softly as if to a spooked horse. “I didn’t mean to rile you up. Maybe you’re right though. I don’t much like what I was told either. Let’s leave it until we see that Albus guy again. Maybe he’ll be more open when we get on his turf.” 

 

Thankfully the server came at that moment to take their orders. Hayden ducked her head when Ben asked for “prawns” instead of shrimp. She didn’t want to admit it, but his soft voice had calmed her a great deal and she could feel her anger seeping away. Their discussion didn’t return to their future plans until the end of the meal. 

 

“We will be leaving here tomorrow morning at eight AM sharp,” Rosemary informed them. “First to a specialty area to do money exchange, purchase your work outfits and so forth. Tomorrow afternoon you can tour London and purchase additional Muggle, ahem, I mean regular clothing as you see fit. We have a special transport arranged for early the next morning. Any questions?”

 

“Lots,” Ben said. 

 

“Yes,” Hayden said. 

 

Ben flashed her a grin and Hayden’s eyes fell to her plate. She again felt a light blush coming to her cheeks and concentrated on her breathing. All of her previous anger had abated at the idea that she was really going to learn more about magic. She felt a thrill that she hadn’t experienced since leaving her small home town and heading towards the big city. 

 

Pretending not to notice Hayden’s blush, Ben asked Rosemary, “One quick question: Why are you are here? A horticulturist doesn’t seem like an automatic tour guide choice. And, let’s be honest, you are more like a babysitter for us. I know you said you had to go look at a plant, but surely this is abnormal for you, right?”

 

“Because Albus asked me to be,” Rosemary stated as it is was the most obvious thing. Seeing their confusion, she continued, “Albus has a reason for everything he does, even if no one but him knows it. I do not know why you two are going to work at the school. Albus said you were counselors, but I don’t see how that can possibly be given you are, um, not of our world and have never studied with anyone that is. I don’t question his decisions though. I trust him. You two should too. He is one of the greatest, and most knowledgeable, men I’ve ever met. I’ll guide you through shopping tomorrow, and we’ll go from there. You’ll learn a lot more when we can talk freely while shopping.” 

 

She rose from the table and they followed suit. Leading them back into the hotel’s lobby, she wished them goodnight. She would be staying with a friend in town. 

 

The elevator ride back up to their respective floors was not a comfortable one. “I feel like we got off of the wrong foot. Want to try again,” Ben asked. 

 

“No. We didn’t get off badly,” Hayden answered. “I think we’re both in for a lot of weird encounters in the future. Let’s forget about it and move on.” 

 

“Well aren’t you a tough cookie,” Ben said as the doors opened to his floor. “As you want it. See you tomorrow.” He exited the elevator and moved away without giving her a backwards glance. She knew she had hurt his feelings, but she was just too tired and nervous about the next day to care. She had flown to London to learn why she could perform magic, not to be hit on or made to feel stupid. 

 

Entering her room, and not even bothering to change out of her dinner clothes, she collapsed onto her bed. Burying her head in her pillows she wondered again if she was making the right decision.  
She felt Kipper jump up on the bed and curl up beside her. He at least, she thought, understood. 

### End of Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I claim no characters or settings other than those created by my own imagination. Inspiration from JK Rowling's magical world of Harry Potter. Takes place in Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Also, I apologize in advance for using and probably abusing other culture slang and dialog. I’m American, and an ignorant one at that.


	3. An Account at Gringotts Bank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "… beware / Of finding more than treasure there." — Fragment of Poem Above Gringott’s Entrance

Hayden expected travel from the Club Quarters to wherever they were going to purchase their supplies to take a great deal of time. She was mistaken. Rosemary met her and Ben in the hotel foyer and led them only a couple blocks away to a beautifully quaint street only a five minute walk from Trafalgar Square. Hayden silently congratulated herself on wearing jeans and tennis shoes. Rosemary had opted for pumps and a ridiculously large fanny pack, neither of which seemed to slow her down any. She set a pace that both Ben and Hayden struggled to keep up with in the early morning air. 

“You’ll notice of course the Book Shop and the Record Store,” Rosemary said as she stood on the sidewalk. Both Ben and Hayden nodded. “And now,” she continued reaching out and taking their hands, “I’ll show you the famous Leaky Cauldron.”

“Bloody Hell,” Ben whispered. Hayden had to agree with his sediment. Between the aforementioned stores suddenly stood a new building. Hayden could not even begin to comprehend how it had appeared. One moment the wall between the two shops was solid, the next it held a heavy looking wooden door and old fashioned swinging sign in the shape of a verifiable, though not leaking, cauldron. 

“Shall we?” Rosemary released their hands and started to the door. She seemed to be in a fine and mischievous spirit. Hayden groaned inwardly— she despised chipper morning people. “I trust you had breakfast in your rooms? I’d like to get the shopping done before it becomes too late, and first we need to claim your accounts at Gringotts.” 

“Well actually, I’m not much of a morning person,” Ben confessed. “But I’ll be good until noon. Onward to the magical realm.” He grinned at Rosemary and held the door for her. His eyes barely focused on Hayden. 

Frowning slightly with irritation, Hayden followed Rosemary into the Leaky Cauldron’s dimly lit interior. There were not many patrons so early in the morning, but an aging barkeep was polishing one of the larger tables towards the back of the room. He looked up and smiled a friendly gap-tooth smile in their direction. 

“Ken aye getcha an’thing,” he asked in a deep and gravelly voice as they approached.

“No thank you Tom,” Rosemary replied. “We are just passing through to shop, but we’ll be back for a bit of lunch.” She smiled warmly at the older man and he bowed them through a door at the very back of the room. 

They entered into a small courtyard, barely wider than a large elevator. Rosemary removed a wand from her fanny pack and tapped the bricks along the wall. “The Leaky Cauldron,” she said, “Was built in the 1500s. Muggles and our kind both use to gather there. Now only magical individuals know of it and can rent rooms. Tom keeps it in tip-top shape.” 

Ben and Hayden hardly heard the history lesson, they were more focused on the transforming brick wall. By the time Rosemary had finished, the wall had completely shifted into a beautiful archway leading to a busy street. While the London streets and shops were only starting to open, here people bustled hurriedly in every direction. “Welcome,” Rosemary said as she led the way, “to Diagon Alley.” 

Hayden tried, and failed, to take it all in at once. The people would have been enough to keep her looking for a year. She saw robes of every color, pointed hats, and turbans to match. Some were definitely human, and some were definitely not. She saw a very short man sitting outside one shop on a floating carpet. He sat cross-legged and smoked a long pipe. The smoke swam in intricate designs around his head. Another shop boasted the “Finest Newt Eyes on the Market.” They passed a group of children, no older than twelve or thirteen were pressed against one shop window talking excitedly about the latest model of something. Ben looked like he wanted to join them, but Rosemary kept a dogged pace towards the largest building at the end of the street. 

As they neared the colossal building, Hayden realized it was a bank. Both she and Ben paused at the steps leading to the entrance door to read the lengthy warning poem engraved on the building’s walls. “As you can see,” Rosemary said, “You’d be a bit daft to try to rob the place.”

“I’d say so,” Hayden agreed. “But in a magical world, wouldn’t it be easy to rob a bank?” 

“I’m sure they’ve thought of that,” Ben replied. “Or maybe they are just more open and honest than you Americans.” He started up the steps. The two women, taken aback by his gruff words, hesitated slightly before following him. 

“A different kind of magic protects these accounts,” Rosemary explained as they entered the building. She motioned at the creature behind the front desk, “You see, it is run by goblins. There is no place safer. Well maybe Hogwarts, but if you are wanting to protect your money, you put it here.” She opened her pack and approached an open teller. Ben and Hayden followed in her wake. 

Handing the goblin an envelope, she said, “We are here to claim access to the two accounts as listed in that letter.” The goblin, a small grey skinned creature with extraordinary long fingers, took the offered letter and silently read it. Ben and Hayden looked around the bank’s main room in wonder. The tellers’ desks occupied one long wall with a waiting area and business cubicles opposite. At the end of the room was a single iron door. Two large and ferocious looking goblins stood as guards on either side. 

“All appears to be in order. Only the two then?” The goblin paused and looked at Rosemary for verification. 

“Yes. Only two.” She spoke quietly, apparently hoping to exclude Ben and Hayden from the conversation. Ben gave Hayden an inquiring look, which she answered with a slight shrug.

“Very well. Their identification, please.” The goblin spoke with a clipped and crisp tone. Hayden had the distinct impression that he was not at all impressed with her. Nervously she reached into her purse and withdrew her passport and identification cards. Rosemary stepped aside as Hayden stepped forward. Not taking the cards from her, the goblin continued to wait expectantly. 

“Offer him your hand,” Rosemary prompted.

Swallowing her nerves, Hayden returned the cards to her purse and reached across the desk. The goblin wrapped his long fingers around her wrist with a supremely strong grip. Hayden knew, suddenly and clearly, that she would never be able to break the creature’s hold on her without his say so. She felt her blood heating and had an unsettling feeling of the power she had felt previously, when bringing her sketched drawings to life, swell in her chest. The goblin’s grip lessened in surprise but his face remained still. After another moment he released her and said, “Vault 251.” He pulled a small key on a satin cord out from a drawer under his desk and handed it to Hayden. He then dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She stepped back and Ben took her place. 

The goblin repeated the process with Ben, holding his wrist for a far shorter time than he had held Hayden’s. She was not sure, but from what little she could see around Ben’s broad shoulders, the goblin hesitated before and flinched slightly when taking hold of Ben. “Vault 727.” He handed Ben a key. “Please proceed to the Vaults’ Door. Griphook will meet you there.”

As the three walked towards the back of the room, Hayden glanced back and noticed the goblin put a “closed” sign on his desk. The little creature purposely did not watch them leave. Instead he hurried to the offices behind the tellers’ area. 

The two goblin guards eyed the trio as they approached. Both stepped away from the door as they neared, possibly passing some sort of security test. Ben reached for the door, to open it for the ladies, but it opened on its own accord. Out stepped a much smaller goblin. His skin was slightly green tinted and his ears abnormally large for his race. He eyed the three for a moment and said, “No room for all. Two only.” 

“Oh dear. You’d two best go along then. It would take too long to make two trips,” Rosemary said. “Dumbledore advanced half your salary for the year to your accounts. The large gold coins are Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles, and the bronze are Knuts. Go ahead and get forty or so Galleons to see you through shopping. I’ll wait here.” 

“What’s the exchange rate?” Ben asked. 

“I’ll explain later. Goblins don’t like to be kept waiting.” And sure enough, Griphook was already edging back through the door with a peeved expression. Hayden and Ben followed him and shared a look as the door shut firmly behind them. They had entered a long stone platform, much like a subway station. Instead of a train, Hayden saw, there were iron carts with a single bench to the back and a goblin sized chair to the front. The carts traveled on iron railing, but she could not see any engine or wires to give the cart power. Griphook held the cart’s door open and motioned them inside. 

The bench was only wide enough for her and Ben to sit comfortably. She had barely time to notice various other smaller carts along the track before being thrown backwards in her seat. Above the roar of the passing wind she heard Griphook shout, “Please hold tight!”

The ride was exhilarating and awful. Forgetting his rude statements earlier and his stand-offish nature all morning, Hayden clung to Ben’s arm and the cart hurled along a winding and twisting track. She was not exactly scared, but she certainly was not enjoying the experience either. Ben, on the other hand, let out a long “whoop” as the cart descended down a fantastic corkscrew before leveling out and coming to a smooth stop alongside a stone encased wooden door. “Vault number 251. Key please.” 

Shaking slightly, Hayden retrieved the key she had received earlier and handed it to Griphook. The goblin opened the door and both Hayden and Ben stared in wonder at the vault’s content. There was a fairly large stack of coins mounded on the floor in the middle of a small closet sized room. “Wow,” Hayden said. “I don’t need to know the conversion rate to know that that’s a lot of gold.”

“Not gold,” Griphook said. “Galleons.”

“What’s the difference,” Ben asked as Hayden began to count out the coins and place them in a small leather bag that Griphook had given her. 

“Goblin’s gold is not the same as Muggle gold,” Griphook answered, as if it was obvious. Both Ben and Hayden caught the sneer the little creature had put into the world ‘Muggles.’

 

“Ah, okay mate. If you say so,” Ben turned his attention back to Hayden. “Care to hold my hand on the next go round? My forearm is a bit sore from your grip.” She stiffened her back in reply. 

 

“No, that’s fine. Maybe we can go a bit slower on the next round?” She looked at Griphook. 

 

“One speed only,” he replied. After a longer ride, deeper into the massive labyrinth of the bank, they arrived at Ben’s vault. 

 

Ben concealed his disappointed that Hayden had clutched the wooden bench they sat on instead of him on the second leg of their ride. She was obviously miserable. He told her to concentrate on her breathing while he hurriedly gathered his own coins. Throwing caution to the wind, he wrapped an arm around her and held her close to his side on their trip back to the main entrance. She had not objected.

###End Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I claim no characters or settings other than those created by my own imagination. Inspiration from JK Rowling's magical world of Harry Potter. Takes place in Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Also, I apologize in advance for using and undoubtably abusing other cultures’ slang and dialog. I’m an American, and an ignorant one at that.


	4. Three's Company - Or Not

“You look bloody terribly,” Ben said as they stepped back into the main hall. “Think you’ll make it?”

“I’ll make it, just need some air.” Hayden said briskly. She hurried towards Rosemary. “Where to next?” 

“Oh dear, you look a trifle green. Those cart rides are a bit wild. Here, have a peppermint.” 

“What did the goblin mean by only two accounts,” Hayden asked after she had taken some deep breaths outside of the bank. The peppermint was helping her nausea a great deal as well. 

“Oh nothing dear. Hogwarts’ business and so forth.” Rosemary waved her hand as if dismissing the question. “Now, let’s start with your robes. Madam Malkin's is superior for her selection.”

“Hogwarts’ business,” Ben repeated. His eyes narrowed for a moment and then he shrugged. “Why do we have to wear, ah, robes? Are they normal or more like your best bib and tucker?” 

“Your what,” Hayden asked. 

“Like a suit and tie,” he explained. “Fancy get up or are they common?”

“Oh,” Rosemary replied, also having been confused by the Australian’s colloquialism. “Oh, I see. No. Everyone wear’s robes in the Wizarding World. You would be quite out of place at Hogwarts without your day robes. The students have class robes, but typically wear regular muggle clothing during their off periods. Adult wizards, as you see, are mostly garbed in robes as they attend to their daily business.”

Hayden and Ben had noticed. It was hard not to notice the swishing of robes that were part of Diagon Alley’s background noise. “The TSA would have a field day with this,” Hayden muttered. Ben chuckled slightly, catching her reference. Rosemary either did not hear, did not understand, or did not care. She was busy leading them to a large store front. The window display consisted of bright multicolored robes striking various poses. There were no mannequins. The robes seemed to be filled with invisible models. 

Almost three hours later, the three had returned to the Leaky Cauldron carrying a number of packages and having instructed others to be delivered to Hogwarts within the coming week. Ben and Hayden had each been outfitted with a week’s worth of robes, a variety of common spell books, and a generous supply of quills, parchment, and miscellaneous supplies. Hayden had wanted to spend more time in Obscurus Books, but Rosemary had hinted that she had an appointment that afternoon and if they had wanted to eat before she needed to leave, then they would need to move along and not doddle. 

Hayden did pick up a book about ancient civilizations of non-human species, written by a centaur in the late 1800s. Ben had raised his eyebrow at this but had mercifully not commented, just as she had not commented on his choice of extracurricular reading: “So You Think You Know Your Mind?” by Topeka Danvers. 

“Well we certainly have accomplished a lot this morning,” Rosemary said as she settled into her seat at a table in the Leaky Cauldron’s main dining area. Other tables held guests, but the pub was not crowded. They were a little too early for the main lunch crowd to gather. “I trust you both can find your way back to the hotel. I will meet you back here in the morning.”

“How are we getting to Hogwarts,” Hayden asked. “Magic carpet?”

“Broomstick,” Ben asked. Hayden thought he was a little too excited about the possibility. 

Rosemary laughed at his enthusiasm. “No, and no. We will be taking a car. A friend of mine, Author, has volunteered to drive us. Really nice of him, considering he has to take off work from the Ministry and all.”

“I guess we can talk more now, huh?” Hayden had some questions she wanted to ask about the magical world and the ministry. She doubted Rosemary would know all the answers to her legal questions, but she still wanted to try to get some information. 

“Of course. I’ll do my best to answer. Oh, yes Tom,” she interrupted herself to speak to the bartender who was also their server. “I think I’ll have my usual, the Cottage Pie.”

Ben had been looking over the menu, and was ready to order. Hayden quickly scanned for something while he ordered the Ploughman meal. “It says that serves two,” Hayden said. 

“I’ve a big appetite. Insatiable, really.” He grinned at her and she felt a heat coming to her cheeks. They had barely spoken since the cart ride at Gringotts. 

Biting her cheek to keep her blush at bay, she decided on the “Toad in a Hole.” The name amused her and the description made her realize exactly how hungry she was after shopping all morning. 

“And three Butterbeers,” Rosemary said before Tom left with their order. “Now, what would you like to know?”

“Were others supposed to be here?” Ben asked before Hayden could say anything. Obviously Dumbledore had set up more than two accounts at Gringotts. The goblin teller did not seem like the type to like unexpected change. In fact, he had seemed annoyed at the letter’s information, as if it had countered and already taken action. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to answer your question,” Rosemary said slowly. It was immediately obvious to Hayden that she was hiding something. “I was told to meet with only the two of you at the hotel.”

“But there were others, right?”

“Well, just one. I didn’t know her name,” Rosemary closed her mouth firmly while Tom distributed beers around the table. “Hogwarts is a marvelous place. And there is a wizarding town nearby. Hogsmead. It is the only all wizard community in Britain. I’m sure you’ll become familiar with it; it is within easy walking distance of the school.”

“Ah, you ‘eaded t’ ‘Ogwarts?” Tom asked as he returned with their meals. Hayden’s mouth began to salivate at the rich smells of gravy and onion. “Bit ol’ t’ be ‘n school, ain’t you?”

“There are visiting with Dumbledore,” Rosemary hurriedly answered in an undertone. Tom’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded. He quickly finished placing their meals, refilling their drinks, and then left. 

“Was that, like, code?” Hayden asked. “I thought you said we’d have real answers today.” 

“Yes and no,” Rosemary said. 

“Seriously! I’m sick of that answer,” Hayden set her fork down. She hadn’t meant to be so forceful in her reply. She noticed a few heads turning their way. Tom, back behind the bar, stopped mid-wipe to look at her strangely.

“Easy there love,” Ben said through a mouthful of bread. “She’s giving us the best she can. I’d like to know what all this is about too, but no need to make a scene.” He turned his charming smile, only slightly ruined by a few crumbs at the corner of his mouth, on Rosemary. “What can you tell us? I know you know more than you are saying.”

Flustered by his stare, Rosemary stalled by patting her hair back into place. “Well, I really don’t know much,” she confessed. Hayden marveled at the woman giving in to Ben. She knew she became tongue tied when men spoke to her, but Rosemary seemed to have the opposite problem. 

“I do know that another lady from South America was supposed to be with you two,” Rosemary said. “But, something happened at the last minute.” 

“Change of plans? Cold feet?” Ben inquired gently. Somehow he had never broken eye contact with Rosemary and had still managed to put away almost half his meal. 

“No… not exactly.” Rosemary faltered. Hayden feared she would shut down again. Ben apparently thought so as well. He reached over and placed his hand on the older woman’s arm. Startled by the contact, Rosemary took a deep breath and said, “I gathered that she was killed.”

Hayden’s shocked expression spurred Rosemary on, “Oh! I don’t think, well I don’t know, but I don’t think it had anything to do with coming here dear! I mean, I’m sure it didn’t. Definitely not.” Her forceful denial sent off warning bells in Hayden’s head. She had heard enough clients lie at the law firm to know when a truth was being withheld. 

“Then how was she killed?”

“Car wreck,” Rosemary replied. She said it with a finality that left no doubt the conversation was closed. Hayden looked across the table, meeting Ben’s eyes. She could see that he had his doubts too. 

The rest of their meal conversation focused on what Hogwarts would be like and some details of the Wizarding World. Hayden learned more about the Ministry and was fascinated by the wizarding laws. As she suspected, Rosemary was not a legal expert, but she was able to answer a few of her questions. 

Ben had been quiet for most of the meal, asking an occasional question here and there, or commenting on other guests. Rosemary had pointed out a genie sitting with its Master, a hag who ordered a large plate of raw liver, and a number of other interesting patrons. She had waved at a few, but did not encourage any to come over and speak with her. 

They paid their bill – the total came to five Galleons, twelve Sickles, and four Knuts. Hayden estimated it to be equivalent to about forty-five American dollars. She marveled at the wizards’ continual use of heavy coins, candle lit pub, and rather rustic atmosphere overall. As they were exiting the Leaky Cauldron, she asked, “Why is everything so, um, primitive? Candles, fire lit rooms, and such? You’d think wizards would have adapted to the modern world.”

Ben chuckled, “I don’t think goblins take credit cards.”

“Too true,” Rosemary said. “Electricity and, ah, wifi? Is that right? Wifi? It isn’t needed when you have magic. We are a bit of an old fashioned lot, but our lifestyle suits us. If we didn’t have magic, we’d have had to adapt like Muggles I suppose.”

The three stepped out onto the street and Rosemary held her hand up to stop them. She looked up and down the street before saying, “Well, I will see you tomorrow. I trust you can find your way back to your hotel and to here in the morning. Bright and early. Our car will be here at 7 AM.” She turned on her heel and began walking away from them at a hurried pace. 

“You know,” Ben said, “for a tour guide, she sucks.”

Hayden nodded and started walking back towards their hotel. “You get the feeling we’re in over our heads,” she asked after a few minutes. Ben didn’t answer and she risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye. 

“I do,” he finally said, “but it don’t seem like you do. So calm and cool. Asking all about the Ministry laws and council. Ah, don’t go blushing on me. I’m only teasing.”

His acknowledgement of her blush only made her cheeks shine brighter. “I know you are.” 

They had reached their hotel by then and were about to head to the elevator when the desk clerk stopped them. “Sir. Ma’am. If you please, I do apologize. I’m the Reservation’s Manager and there seems to have been a bit of confusion. We do not have you booked for a second night’s stay.”

“Oh,” Ben said, “for both us? Hayden Parker and Benjamin Harris?” 

“That is correct sir. Both of your rooms were paid with the same transaction, and it appears that it was unclear that it should have been two rooms for two night, not two rooms for one night each.” 

“Fine. I don’t mind switching rooms, do you Hayden?” He turned to her but the manager spoke again. 

“I’m sorry sir, but we have no available rooms.”

“None?”

“Not a single one. Our sister hotels are also full. I can write you a discount voucher for future reservations however. For the inconvenience.” 

“Ben,” Hayden tugged at Ben’s shirt sleeve, “Why don’t we see if, ah, Tom has a room for the night?”

Ben’s eyes lit up at her suggestion. “Say, that’s a good idea. I wouldn’t say no to another meal there.”

In less than an hour the two found themselves re-entering the Leaky Cauldron. Hayden carried Kipper’s cage in one hand and her travel luggage (now considerably heavier with her earlier purchases) in the other. Tom greeted them enthusiastically, but a crease of worry marred his brow. 

“Aye ‘ave a room for th’ ‘ight,” he said. “But only th’ ‘ne.” 

“Only one room,” Ben repeated. He looked over at Hayden. “Well, what choice do we have? I’ll take the floor.” 

Before Hayden could object, Ben had paid for the night and Tom was leading them up the stairs to the rooms on the pub’s second floor. 

###End Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I claim no characters or settings other than those created by my own imagination. Inspiration from JK Rowling's magical world of Harry Potter. Takes place in Harry's first year at Hogwarts.

**Author's Note:**

> I claim no characters other than those created by my own imagination. Inspiration from JK Rowling's magical world of Harry Potter. Takes place in Harry's first year at Hogwarts.


End file.
